Dracula: Prince of Darkness
by MarcellusMiro66
Summary: "Every bloodline has a beginning." / 120 years ago, a legendary monster was killed by a legendary vampire hunter. 120 years later, he is destined to rise again...and take his vengeance upon the world. Lincoln had the luck of being caught in the crossfire.
1. Chapter 1: Rule the World

Hi, everyone, MarcellusMiro66 here! This is the first installment of my _Universal Monsters_ universe, a mere month before _The Mummy_ , the first movie in their universe. After _No Such Luck_ 's events, Lincoln is bitten/transformed by a vampire.

Enjoy! If you can...

* * *

 **("Everybody Wants to Rule the World" – Lorde)**

 ** _120 years ago. . ._**

 _It was a dark day in Transylvania. Or, rather, a dark_ _night_ _. The townspeople were mourning. Despite the death of the man that terrorized the country, his own wasn't the only one. Several people had been the victims of the monster's massacre, some even children of varying ages. This deep and personal tragedy had many parents (both potential and actual) devastated to a deafening degree, leaving them childless; other children whose parents had perished in the plight of the pillage were left as oppressed orphans who were lost in the unknown without guidance and aid. Some pensive parents were even driven to suicide out of grief._

 _One persistent person was determined to not let tragedy determine his fate, however._

 _Lionel Loud was a humble follower at the best, a wise leader at the very best. A family man whose eldest daughter was unfortunately one of the victims of the monstrous mass murder, he kept his reputation as the town priest steady and balanced even if it was under pressure. His relationship with Laurel wasn't exactly the closest, but they both loved each other nonetheless. He was a man of focus, she was a girl of integrity; both elements made for an interesting and unique combination of intelligent sheer will. It was somewhat fortunate that they reconciled one more time before disaster struck._

 _Lionel entered his house and hung his coat on the rack, sighing in sorrow as a forlorn expression streaked his face. He had just arrived back from the funeral in London, where the killer had struck. He ran his right hand through his brunette hair as he made his way to the kitchen. The minute he set foot in said kitchen, he came face-to-face with a hooded figure. The outline was clearly that of a woman's._

 ** _"Hello, miss. Can I help you?"_**

 _The figure shook her head, **"No, sir. It may be too late."**_

 _Lionel frowned and his eyebrows furrowed, now fully aware that something was seriously wrong, **"What happened?"**_

 ** _"The man. The monster. The demon they call...Vlad. He will return. He will rise again. And he will reclaim...what he has been denied."_**

 _Lionel was now unnerved by this woman's appearance and statements. Superstitious statements. **"What...has he been denied?"**_

 _The woman faced the town priest with her pale light grayish magenta eyes, an expression that read crystal clear fear._

 ** _"The world."_**

 _She_ _suddenly turned tail and ran out of the house, confusing Lionel into chasing after this perplexing person. By the time he arrived outside, she was gone. And so was the answer to his question. 'What was Vlad denied?' He gazed at the horizon in horrifying realization as the formerly ambiguous answer to his question came to him full force._

 ** _"The world."_**

* * *

 ** _120 years later. . ._**

The Loud Family was just arriving home from an expected hot day at the beach. They were all able to relax and unwind...all with the exception of their sole son. Lincoln Loud's inability to relax and unwind wasn't entirely his own fault. This entire mess started when he learned that, because of his sisters' multiple activities planned out for their day, he never got to plan out activities for himself. Or, rather simply, he never got some alone time. In any case, Lynn was simply unaware that it was simply a bad time to ask Lincoln to come to her baseball game. Or, rather simply, _force_ him. _With a baseball bat._ As if that form of perceived persuasion wasn't amazingly appalling enough, Lynn actually had the balls to blame Lincoln for her team's loss and go as far as to accuse of being a bad luck charm. The worse part? He admitted to "being one". Again, this entire mess wasn't _entirely_ his fault.

Lincoln sauntered upstairs to his room, which resembled its former position as a closet than an actual room to call his own. All of his belongings (save for his bed and drawer) were all packed in brown boxes, a grand total of six boxes in two rows. Silently closing and locking the door behind him, Lincoln slipped out of the squirrel costume and threw it aside, slumping against the wall. Sweaty, smelly, and sleepy, he just wanted nothing more than to relax and unwind just like the rest of his family. Who were outside. Enjoying themselves. Having a good time.

Unlike him.

Lincoln rubbed his eyes in weary agitation and glanced at his circular window. It was near nighttime now, and a good night's sleep would overwhelm him in a few hours now. Oh, sorry, he meant _bad night's sleep_. The days so far haven't been so good to him, have they?

He got what he wanted. He finally had some alone time. He no longer had to attend any of his sisters' activities, but did they attend any of _his_? Karate chop? Just his parents. Beauty pageant? Lola, but she merely laughed as a part of her brother's humiliation conga. Marathon man? _Nobody._ Justified, as he was a _very_ slow sprinter. The more he thought about it, the more he realized about it: nobody from the family shows up for _his_ activities, yet everybody from the family shows up for _his sisters'_ activities.

 _Am I really not that special?_

Lincoln buried his face in his hands and silently sobbed.

 _"Do they really see me this way? Do they not consider me a brother or...a **son**?"_

Lincoln silently sobbed his sorrows away for two straight hours.

All the while, Lucy listened from the vents to Lincoln's elaborate epiphany. At that moment, the repulsing realization came rapidly rushing to her faster than that sizable swell came rapidly rushing towards Lola and Lana at the beach. _Did_ _Lincoln have... **no** bad luck...this entire time?_ Lucy slowly curled into a ball and rocked back and forth. _Oh, dear God... I screwed up. ... We screwed up. We screwed up bad. Lincoln wasn't bad luck. Bad luck wasn't Lincoln. ... We were._ The goth girl crawled back into her room and noticed her athletic roommate kicking a ball back and forth. _Lynn..._

Lucy silently landed on her bed and Lynn never noticed her until she exited the room, "Hey, Lucy. Have you seen Lincoln? I need him for my next baseball game a week from now."

Her back facing her, Lucy opened her mouth to speak in her usual monotone voice a reply to Lynn, but her following response came _a lot less_ monotone than they both expected.

 _"No."_

Lucy then retreated the room and descended downstairs, leaving in a daze Lynn, who was just as confused as she [Lucy] was. _Huh. That was a lot **more** than monotone._ She [Lynn] frowned as she watched her younger sister leave before shrugging it off. Just not completely.

* * *

Lincoln's eyes fluttered open and he slowly sat up; glancing around, he found himself outside on the porch again for some reason. Noticing a note attached to his blanket, he detached it and gave it a read. His eyes narrowing with each line, Lincoln sighed solemnly and crumpled the note, tossing it aside near his blanket. He slowly stood up and walked over to the backyard tree. Leaning against it, he frowned and slouched down to the grass. Unbeknownst to him, a hidden figure watched from right above him, his blood red eyes reflecting off the moonlight.

 _"Skilled... Afraid... Young... He will be a perfect pupil for me. My own..."_

Lincoln's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he slowly stood in caution. _Okay... I know I didn't just hear that. I know I didn't just a voice. An old, frail voice..._ His cautious curiosity getting the best of him, the white-haired boy slowly glanced at the tree and saw it: the pair of blood red eyes staring right back at him. He opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

The figure was just too fast.

Everybody missed a thing.

* * *

 _Lincoln's eyes blinked open this time and he swiftly stood up, finding himself in the forest this time rather than his back porch. Glancing around, he saw nothing but the forest with the help of an immense illumination courtesy of the midnight moonlight. Well, it technically wasn't midnight just yet, but regardless..._

 ** _"Hello, my child..."_**

 _Lincoln's eyes widened in terror. It was the same old, frail voice from before. Spinning around in amazing anxiety, he called out in vain to the darkness._

 ** _"Who's there? Who are you?"_**

 ** _"Be calm, my child. There's no need to be afraid."_**

 _Lincoln's eyes lowered in wonder now. It was a woman now. That old, frail voice of a man from before...is a new, gentle voice of a woman from now._

 ** _"Please don't hurt me."_**

 _Nevertheless, Lincoln was still riddled with fear and distress. Whoever this woman was, there was no doubt that he was prone to get hurt (or, at the very worst, killed) by this furtive female, whom had yet to reveal herself. He spun around, albeit to a lesser degree._

 ** _"I will not hurt you, my dear. I harbor no such desire to do so. However, the process you will about to go through...will be painful just a little."_**

 _This somewhat soothing statement did some to calm Lincoln's nerves. He nodded in understanding before deciding to meet his concealed "captor" face-to-face,_

 ** _"Where are you? Come into the light."_**

 ** _"Oh, my dear... I AM the light."_**

 _Lincoln's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he turned around one more time. He sharply gasped in shock and simply stood there, paralyzed with full fright. The figure before him was truly a sight to behold; how you go about it is your choice and your own only. Lincoln didn't enough time to manifest said sight before him, however, as the woman dug her teeth into his neck. 'Wait, what? She couldn't possibly...right? Unless... Oh. My. God. She's a VAMPIRE.'_

 _Lincoln opened his mouth to scream in horrified pain, but just like before...he just couldn't._

 _The darkness overtook Lincoln soon after._

* * *

It was around midnight when the matriarch of the Loud Family woke up...for some reason. Rita had absolutely no idea in the slightest why she would wake around this time, but she knew that she woke up, simple as that. She slowly sat and stood up from bed, walking out of the bedroom and upstairs into Lincoln's room. Observing it top to bottom, she sighed in regret of selling his furniture and packaging his belongings, and she and her husband were the ones responsible. She and Lynn weren't thinking straight as a result of their superstitious fears getting the best of them. She was the first one to see the folly in all of this. She stated herself as simply stupid for falling for such a false accusation, prompted by none other than Lynn Jr. of all people. Speaking of whom, their sports-loving child had been acting fidgety since their trip to and from the beach. Did she still not trust her younger brother after all this time?

 _Well, only one way to find out._

Rita slowly knocked on Lincoln's bedroom door, her gentle motherly voice in the form of a whisper accompanying it, _"Lincoln? It's me, Mom. I just wanted to say sorry for everything we've done to you for the past few days."_ When silence was her response, Rita's motherly instinct instantly kicked in and she slowly opened the door to find...an empty bedroom. Well, the "bedroom" resembled more of an actual closet. _Then again...this room was an actual closet. _Shaking it off, Rita efficiently examined the room head to toe, from the packaged boxes to the discarded squirrel costume that laid nearby. Her nose wrinkling, Rita fanned away the smell that contaminated it.

 _Oh, Lincoln._

Rita frowned in solemnness and exited the room, bent on confronting the one person who started this entire mess.

A knock on the door woke both sisters awake from their sleep, but it was Lucy who braved the walk to the door. Her braveness somewhat diminished upon the fact that the figure who stood before her face-to-face with was her mother. The goth girl who rarely emoted bit her bottom lip in fear, already having a good idea as to why her mother was up at this hour,

 _"Lynn's still sleeping."_

 _"Thank you, Lucy."_ Rita walked past Lucy – who trailed behind – and to the side of Lynn's bed, the owner of which was tossing and turning in her sleep. One eyebrow was raised as Rita frowned in concerned confusion. _A nightmare, I suppose?_

 _"Lynn. Wake up, Lynn."_ Rita's bottom lip was bit and so was the bullet she took, **_"LYNN!"_**

The sports jock yelped in fear and fell off her bed in front of her mother's feet. She blinked in bewilderment and glanced up, realizing what was happening.

"Oh, hi, Mom."

"Where's your brother, Lynn?"

 _Shoot. The jig is up._ "Uh...Lincoln's not in his room?"

"No, Lynn. No, he's not." Rita crossed her arms and gritted her teeth beneath her closed lips. Lynn recoiled at this, now knowing that this was worse than she thought it to be. _Oh... This is worse than I thought it to be._

Lynn listened on as Rita continued on, "I only found his packaged boxes and his squirrel costume."

At that, Lynn panicked as all the possibilities of her brother wreaking havoc with his bad luck opened up, "What?! We need to find him before something bad happens–!"

 _"Lynn."_ At that, Lynn stopped panicking. Rita's tone now reverted to her infamous _'Motherly Rita'_ tone, something that all members of the Loud Family (yes, even the patriarch) came to know and fear. Lynn gulped in alarm, now fully aware that locking her brother outside for her family's sake was a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea.

As for Rita, she smoothed her nose bridge and shook her head in frustration, "Please tell me you didn't lock your brother outside because of his bad luck."

 _Oh, speak of the Devil..._ Lynn softly sighed and reluctantly relented, "... I did."

Rita blankly blinked at her fifth eldest daughter in rising rage before it exploded in a mere _"Oh, fucking hell..."_ Rita exited the girls' bedroom and descended downstairs, the girls themselves left in a stunned state. Never – and they mean never – had they heard or witnessed their mother curse in front of her own children before. This was certainly a first. Lynn and Lucy exchanged worried looks before they took off after their mother, who had just entered the backyard...where Lincoln was supposed to be.

"He's not here." Rita and Lynn both said in unison, although Lynn's was more of a careless whisper. The mother turned to the daughter, "Where is he? _Where is Lincoln, Lynn?_ "

"I... I don't know."

* * *

 _Lincoln's eyes shot open this time and he swiftly stood up just as before. Not in alarm, but in repulsion. He was surrounded by a prodigious puddle of blood, the source of which was his bitten neck. He briskly breathed in high horror upon this disturbing discovery. Those brisk breaths turned to wallowing weeps and those wallowing weeps turned to scared screams and those scared screams turned to raged roars. Every emotion declined upon he realized...he was dead. But how could he be dead...if he was still alive? Still here? He curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth. This continued on for a few minutes or more, only stopping when he caught a whiff of a faint fragrance in the air. He_ _suddenly stopped himself because of it. The faint fragrance...was his own blood. "Appalled" wasn't the first word to describe himself upon realizing this, but he somehow couldn't help himself. That smell, that look...that taste. He went down on his knees...and smelled it. Looked it. And tasted it. 'Oh, the taste... I need more. I WANT more.' He buried his face into the puddle of blood and began to drink it all up, not having a care in the world if he was tasting his own blood. When there was nothing but a few droplets and a silver mirror –_

 _'Wait... A silver mirror?'_

 _Lincoln picked up said silver mirror and gazed into it. He gasped in shock upon the sight before him: himself. His slicked white hair had been dyed with a black half and his eyes were the color of the blood he just drank. He was dressed in a black suit with dark blue lining; behind him was a dark red cape which seemed to be the acquired accessory needed to complete the costume. He took up the cape and draped it over his shoulders. He gazed into his reflection one more time before a sly smirk crossed his face._

 _'I'm not dead... But I've never been so alive.'_

 _Lincoln slowly stood up as his smirk grew wider._

 _'My name isn't Lincoln. My name...is Dracula.'_


	2. Chapter 2: The Sound of Silence

**("The Sound of Silence" –** **Simon & Garfunkel)**

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

" _I don't know_ , Mom. He was just here...or, at least, was _supposed to be_ here."

Rita couldn't believe what she was hearing in the absolute slightest, " _Supposed to be_? Lynn, I'm only going say this once: You cannot lock out your brother based on his luck, good or bad!"

Lynn couldn't believe what _she_ was hearing in the absolute slightest, "Well, why not? I was just protecting my sisters! After all, you did it all the time!"

"That was before I came to my senses!" Rita was suddenly shouting now, "You think just because what happened over the past few days, I'm letting you get off scot-free? To think, I fell for your superstitious shit."

Rita then mutelessly marched back inside the house, her convulsed commotion awakening her husband and a few more of her daughters,

"Rita? What's going on?" Lynn rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"I, like, literally fell off my bed because of all that shouting," Lori spun her spine.

"Well, judging by her disheveled appearance and peeved shouting," Lisa strolled beside her older sister, "I deduce that Mother is angry. _Very_ angry."

 _"Angry?"_ Rita stopped dead in her tracks, prompting the others to do the same, "No, Lisa. Angry doesn't begin to cover it!"

Frightened by their mother's outburst, Lisa was thankful that tonight was a good night to place earmuffs on baby Lily. She watched as her mother picked up the phone and dial the three-digit phone number she dreaded that it would be dialed.

"Mother, why are you calling the police?"

Lisa's strict and (surprisingly) scared statement shocked the rest of the remaining household who had woken up, particularly Lori and Lynn Sr., the latter of which hastily approached Rita; the former, meanwhile, seemed to grasp the situation the most, making her way towards Lynn, who seemed frightened for what would occur next. _She's scared... Good. She, like, should be..._

"What did you do, Lynn?"

The young faced the old, albeit indirectly, "... I... I..."

"Just spit it out already."

Lori would wish Lynn hadn't.

"... I may have locked Lincoln out. It was a stupid decision that I can't take back – "

 ** _SMACK!_**

Lori and Lynn were both thankful that the former had missed the latter's face by _that_ much. However, their "small talk" caught attention of almost everybody sans Rita, who was still waiting for the police to pick up the damn phone already. When they did, Rita explained the situation to them with the talk lasting a good 20 minutes. After she hung up, Rita was led to the couch by Lynn Sr., who placed a comforting hand on a soft shoulder. It wasn't exactly comforting at the moment.

"Lincoln's missing?"

"I made a mistake. _We_ made a mistake."

"I know, Rita. I know now."

"No, you don't, Lynn. It turns out...we could get up to 10 years for locking our son out."

Lynn Sr. looked at Rita with an appalled expression, something shared among the awakened sisters upon hearing this as well.

 _"... What?"_

"Yeah. Kicking out an underage child – meaning under 18 – is considered child abandonment."

"..." _Oh, shit. We fucked up. We fucked up bad._ "So...what do we do?"

"Well...until the police get here...nothing."

Lori cast a glare at Lynn, who backed away from her older sister in fear. Lucy and Luna (who had just woke up and was aware of the situation) stood between the both of them, acting as proclaimed peacekeepers so another fight would break out. Luckily for them both, another fight didn't seem in the mood to be instigated...for now, at least.

Lynn forced the tears that were threatening to slide down her cheeks not to.

 _Oh, Lincoln..._

 _I wish you were here..._

 _I wish I can tell you..._

 _I'm so sorry..._

* * *

 **("The Sound of Silence" – Disturbed)**

Lincoln climbed up the cliff side when he ceased his admiring in the mirror, which was tucked away in his suit. A few minutes past midnight, it was during this time that he questioned his ability to fly. It was the time to test that.

Lincoln glanced down the cliff and gulped in fear; he must've realized that he was really in over his head. Maybe this motivated him even more to jump off. A moment's hesitation stopped him from doing so instantly, however.

 _Oh, come on, Lincoln. Man up! You got this! ... I hope._

Lincoln took ten steps back, two deep breaths, five steps forward, and one surprised shout. When he opened his closed pair of eyes, he was stunned to find out that he was neither falling nor flying. He was _gliding_.

"Whoa." Casting a look at his assumed audience, Lincoln smiled and shrugged, "Well, better than nothing, right?"

Lincoln still needed to get a hang of this, if not _the_ hang of this. He spread his arms and soared all over the forest, taking in the magnificent view before him. The forest during this time was nothing short of blissfully beautiful and aesthetically amazing. The shining moonlight was a congenial complement to it all.

 _"Help! Somebody help!"_

Lincoln's fantastic flight had to come to an exasperating end when his ears perked up at the sound of a person – specifically, a girl – in distress. _Wow. First, full flight; now, super sense? Huh. This night keeps getting stranger and stranger by the minute._ He flew off to the rescue, but worries plagued him as he traveled to the distress signal. _What if she sees me for what I'm supposed to be? A...monster? ... No, no. Get this through your head: You are not a monster. You never were a monster. You're just...abnormal._

Lincoln arrived above the house under siege; six masked men with shotguns and one carbine were trying to break in. His eyes widened as his super vision ( _Wow, I'm really a Gary Stu, am I?_ ) took over. Two girls – one old, one young – were hidden in the house. The older girl had wavy brunette hair with two buns, a pair of white sunglasses on top of said wavy brunette hair, a blue denim jacket, a yellow dress, and a pair of black boots; she ran to the living room, loaded a Remington 870 of her own, and opened fire on the attackers. The younger girl had very curly ginger hair, an orange headband that held said very curly ginger hair back with a matching colored pair of earrings, a navy blue blouse with a matching colored skirt, blue flats, and white socks; she hid in the kitchen with a kitchen knife and a iPhone by her side, using the latter object to contact the police.

He knew her. He knew her anywhere.

 _"Cristina...?"_

 ** _CRASH!_**

A shocked scream from his long-lost crush knocked him out of his vision visualization. Lincoln growled and gritted his teeth in fury. _They won't touch her... They never will..._

Lincoln grunted as he soared down and tackled the man who was dangerously close to clutching Cristina. The assailant dropped his Mossberg 500 Persuader in the process and attempted to retrieve it, but was knocked down by Lincoln before he could. The young vampire then proceeded to pummel the man's face into the ground before biting down hard on his neck, a scared-stiff scream prompted as all of his blood was drained out of him. His five remaining comrades ceased fire when they heard the scream and readied their weapons, their own blood running cold. As for the shotgun woman, she made her way to the kitchen, where her sister resided in secret.

 _"Cristina?"_

The little red-haired girl crawled out from beneath the table and hugged her sister, who sincerely hugged her back.

"It's okay. Just stay here."

The woman raised and aimed her Remington 870 as she advanced to the backyard, where a barely breathing Lincoln stared down in horror at what he had done. This was his first kill. The woman could barely believe the sight before her: a young boy who was presumably the murder of one of the masked men who tried to attack her and her sister. Emphasis on the word **"try"**.

The woman watched as the boy slowly stood and turned to face her. She was ultimately unnerved by the amount of blood pouring from his mouth, causing her to lower her shotgun out of feared intrigue,

"Who are you? _What_ are you?"

Lincoln suddenly swallowed the blood and breathed briskly, "My name is...Dracula."

Lincoln leaped up, flew to the front of the house, and easily dispatched the remaining five. All the while, the woman's feared intrigue was replaced with intrigued wonder as she watched the kid take down every thug with no mercy. He snapped the carbine man's neck and threw him against a nearby car, slit another's throat, made another shoot himself in the head with his Mossberg 500 Cruiser, and stabbed the leader with his own switchblade _._ After every man was laying dead on the concrete, Lincoln took a deep breath and clutched his side, a shotgun shell sliding out of the now-healing wound. The woman took notice and slowly approached him with an intent of helping him, but he raised one hand up to stop her from doing so.

"... The one reason I'm not killing you is the one reason you can't kill me. Consider this a professional courtesy."

Lincoln then took to the skies once more. The woman stood still for a moment's notice before heading back inside to check up on Cristina, who was still shell-shocked by the attempted home invasion. She picked the discarded iPhone and dialed a long-dormant number, waiting for the receiver to answer the call:

* * *

 ** _"... Hello?"_**

 _"Hey, it's me, Charlotte. You may have something."_

 ** _"... Really? Even after five years of defunct activity?"_**

 _"Yes, actually. You need to be ready._ _We_ _need to be ready."_

 ** _"Hmm. Who's_** ** _we_** ** _?"_**

 _"The world, Mr. Helsing. The age of gods and monsters is rising once again."_

* * *

A/N: The world of _Dracula_ is expanded upon in a total of 1,705 words. Now, Van Helsing is caught in the mix and may be on the hunt for our anti-hero, but who is the true villain? Why exactly is Lincoln sparing Charlotte and Cristina? Will his family ever see their son/brother ever again?

 **Side Note** : "Charlotte" is actually "Belle/Thicc QT" from the episode _Raw Deal_ and not an OC as you may have believed.


	3. Chapter 3: Stuck In The Middle with You

The police surrounded the Loud residence as the occupants themselves stood outside, the neighbors coming out of their houses to catch a piece of the commotion. Two of these neighbors were the McBrides and the Santiagos, who watched as the family under investigation (specifically the parents) were detained.

"Lori!"

"Bobby!"

The two teenagers ran toward and embraced each other, signaling the police chief to order his fellow officers to stand down. Lori handed an approaching Ronnie Anne a silently sobbing Lily, who was then soothed in the possession of the young Hispanic preteen.

"What happened? Where's Lincoln?"

"We don't know yet," Lori shook her head as an answer to Ronnie Anne's question, "but it's our fault that he's gone missing."

"Babe, what are you talking about?" Bobby broke away from the hug in concern.

Lori bit her bottom lip, but knew she had to explain and elaborate on this predicament of theirs, "It's hard to explain, but...we locked Lincoln out of the house because we thought he was bad luck."

Bobby recoiled in shock and it took a full moment for Lori's words to be absorbed and processed through his head. A minute later, he choked out a rather flat,

 _"... What?"_

"I know. I'm sorry. It was a stupid decision for us to make, and I'm sorry for that. But...we really believed that Lincoln was bad luck and we let our superstitions get in the way – "

"Stop. Just stop."

Lori was afraid of her confession provoking Bobby in the worst way possible, but she did what she was told.

"Lori... I forgive you. But I just can't believe that you girls would lock Lincoln out just like that. I'm disappointed in you, Lori."

Thankfully for her, Lori's words didn't anger Bobby in any way...for the most part, anyway. The said couldn't said for Ronnie Anne, however, who passed Lily to her older brother and slowly made her way to his brother's girlfriend. Judging by her facial expression and the fact that her hands were balled into fists tight enough for bones to protrude, to say that she was _incredibly angry_ would be the understatement of the century.

 _"Why...?"_

Lori and Bobby glanced back and forth between each other and the latter's younger sister as they struggled to come up with a reasonable excuse, something that Ronnie Anne wasn't particularly fond of.

"Ronnie Anne...you have to listen – "

 _ **"Why?!"**_

The crowd surrounding them now focused their attention to the heated discussion fixing to erupt like a volcano. All eyes were on them now. In particular, a young woman donning the persona of a scientist tilted her head in intrigue. She had purple hair, black eyes, and a pair of glasses; she wore a dark green overcoat, a navy blue long-sleeve collared shirt, a pair of navy blue dress pants, and a pair of black leather dress shoes. Her purple hair was tied into a bun and her eyes were narrowed so she could see much clearly; clearly, the glasses weren't doing shit.

 ** _"Why did you lock Lincoln out?! And don't give me that bad luck bullshit!"_**

 _ **"Hey!"**_ Lynn ran over to defend Lori, her own hands balling into furious fists, **_"Lori said she was sorry! Don't think this was all her fault!"_**

 ** _"You're right, Loud! This is your doing, too!"_**

The police were a tad too slow before they could stop the first fist from flying, but then again...they didn't need to be fast. The fault between Ronnie Anne and Lynn ended before it even started, courtesy of the latter herself. She glanced up from the spot where her formerly flying fist landed and found herself staring face-to-face with the purple-haired, glasses-wearing scientist.

 _"Uh...sorry..."_

Any anger and confidence Lynn thought she harbored prior to her supposed confrontation instantly diminished upon realizing her mistake. The scientist rolled her eyes in annoyance and walked over to the petrified parents, brushing off her stomach as she did so.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but...you said that your son were missing?"

The parents exchanged glances before Rita replied, "Yes, ma'am. Can we help you?"

The scientist took off her glasses for dramatic effect, "My name is Kira Song. I work for a secret organization known as Prodigium. We believe that your son is in great danger."

* * *

 ** _The next day. . ._**

 ** _("Stuck in the Middle with You"_ _– Stealers Wheel_ _)_**

He didn't like this.

He didn't like this at all.

He dreaded the day that would come. The day that would require him to rise to the occasion beforehand. Not necessarily because he didn't want to, but...rather, he had to. It had to be him. He just wanted vengeance for the death of his girlfriend and parents, not to become a seemingly immortal vampire hunter for all of eternity. It just had to him. The so-called descendant of the greatest vampire hunter in the history of vampire hunters, or of all time for that matter. The man, the myth, the legend... It just had to be him.

He was the man known...as Van Helsing.

 _[*Knock, Knock, Knock!*]_

Corey Riffin was the man on the couch, now.

Corey's eyes blinked open and he stretched on said couch, which he rolled off as he attempted to wake up. Emphasis on the word **"try"**.

"I'm up. I'm up," Corey waved away at the door as he limped over towards it. He opened it up to find a young yet slightly older woman – two years older, to be exact – standing there at there at the doorway. She donned a navy blue denim jacket, a yellow sundress, and a pair of black boots.

"Oh, Charlotte. How long has it been?"

"Give or take two years, sir."

"Ever since that little incident in London?"

"I don't think the streets being overrun with religious cultists qualifies as a _little incident_. If anything, you'd be lucky the remnants of that damn cult didn't locate you and put your head on a pike by now."

"And I tend to keep it that way. Come on down."

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte did indeed enter the house and got comfortable. She situated herself on the couch just as Corey came back with a tray of tea.

"Hungry? Thirsty?"

"Famished."

Charlotte took a cup of tea and slowly sipped on it, watching Corey's movements as if he were hiding something. Unbeknownst to her, he actually was, but his secret wasn't necessarily a bad thing. _It's only bad if she saw it that way..._ The vampire hunter blew a tuft of hair out of his face as he took a seat across from his associate, he too sipping on his hot tea.

"So is it true? The legendary bastard of a monster is back from the dead?"

"Not entirely. It seems that he has chosen a heir for his proclaimed legacy."

Now this statement made by Charlotte piqued Corey's interest. _"A heir?"_

"A kid, too. A boy. Eleven years of age. Eyes red as blood, hair white and black as snow and night, a suit black-and-blue as a violet's bud, and the abilities such as combat and flight."

Charlotte blinked in bewilderment at what she had just said. Not only did her photographic memory come in handy when it mattered the most, but she also said in a fairy tale rhyme nevertheless, no short dose. This occurrence must've taken a toll on her psyche.

"Wow. Taking a page or two from Snow White's book, I suppose?" Even Corey lampshaded this fact.

"... You suppose correctly." Charlotte could only drink on her beverage as she stared blankly into it. While she did this, Corey's mental gears were shifting into overdrive. _A heir to Dracula's throne? Hmm. The concept alone sounds utterly devious yet completely ingenious. After all, it's been 120 years since the dreaded's last appearance, quite being his literal last. It is now the 21st century, meaning new bat blood for a descendant to carry on. The only slight tweak with this concept? This boy is obviously no descendant from what I'm concerned._

"What is the boy's name?"

Charlotte shook her head and faced Corey, now fully away from her sanity slippage. "I'm sorry?"

"The boy. What is his name?"

"Well, from what I've heard from my younger sister... It's Loud. Lincoln Loud."

 _... Oh. Well, shit._

"I see. And where did you come in contact with this Lincoln Loud?"

"Just yesterday night. He killed six armed men with his two bare hands. He's quick, agile. Harder, better, faster, stronger."

His eyebrows linked together in confusion, "Quite possibly than the man himself?"

Her head nodded up and down in confirmation, "Quite possibly than the man himself."

"Hmm," He rubbed his chin in contemplation as she still stared at him. After a minute, he swiftly stood up, "We need assistance."

* * *

Hunter was her name. Killing vampires and other monsters was her game. Born into the world with a cool-as-ice hipster persona and blessed with a family of eleven, her blessing wasn't destined to last long, much to her despair. Her twin brother was the unfortunate victim of a home-invasion homicide; he had sacrificed himself to protect Hunter, the one person the invader was nearest to. This heartbreaking tragedy left the family in definite disarray, but a light of hope was shined upon them with the police vowing to find the killer and his assumed associates.

This hope remained in secret with Hunter herself.

It was four months after his passing that a young man by the name of Corey Riffin offered her a job proposition. In accepting this offer, a new world was welcomed to her. A new world of gods and monsters.

Hunter, her eyes closed and her feet folded, breathed in and breathed out.

Breathed in and breathed out...

And breathed in and breathed out some more.

Before she opened her eyes, unlocked her feet, and threw shurikens at the training dummies. She inhaled deeply and exhaled deeply before regaining her train of thought. Retracting and readying her crossbow, Hunter opened fire on the incoming targets with efficient ease and continued to do so with her TTI Glock 17, her rapid firing prompting lots and lots of fresh reloads.

As she continued her training process, her two visitors watched on:

"Your apprentice, I presume?"

"Equal parts apprentice, equal parts little sister. Charlotte, I'd like you to meet...Lena Lark."

Upon hearing her real name being called, Lena's head shot up and turned towards the room's entrance. She holstered her Glock and set down her crossbow, sauntering over to the two teenagers with beads of sweat.

"Hey, boss. Who's your friend?"

"Associate, but _sometimes_ friend. This here is Charlotte McKinnon. You've met her little sister Cristina."

"I have?" Lena scratched her head and thought about it for a moment before a response came through, "Oh yeah, I have. So?"

 _"So..."_ Corey gestured to Charlotte, who rolled her eyes. "Miss McKinnon has a new job to offer us."

"Like what? Preparing for your wedding?"

Oh, and don't forget a _sly_ streak.

"Ha, ha, ha," Corey mockingly laughed at Lena's comment, "I _was_ married, Lena. As a matter of fact, I still am."

"Oh, right," Lena recoiled back in regret, "Sorry, boss."

"It's fine," Corey waved it off, "Seriously though...it seems that _he_ has returned."

Lena recoiled once again, this time gasping in shock. _"He?"_

 _"He."_

* * *

 _ **London, England. . .**_

 _"He who controls the monsters...controls the world."_

This was a quote he held dear to his heart. A sweet and innocent young boy whose main motivation is make a difference in the world, it was this dream and ambition of his that led to his ultimate downfall. Due to the teachers' and parents' negligence, the ultimate fate in question wasn't a pretty one. Let's just say it involves catastrophic chemicals.

 _"And I... I am that he!"_

The young man experimented with a similar batch of chemicals, a devilish grin and a black suit worn on him.

 _"The age of gods and monsters...is here!"_

His name...was Doctor Henry Jekyll.

* * *

 **A/N** : The third chapter: 2,075 words (excluding the **A/N** ) and 2,150 words in total. For questions that concern Lincoln being the classic or the modern, he is a little bit of both. Plus, Van Helsing, his apprentice Lena (courtesy of **_The 21st Century Pendragon_** ), Doctor Henry Jekyll, his assistant "Kira Song", and the group called Prodigium is introduced in the universe. Chapter 3 will primarily focus on Lincoln, Cristina, and Lena.


End file.
